


between two lungs

by mollykaths



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Character Study, F/M, Jyn Erso-centric, Jyn and Cassian are both touch-starved and desperate, Jyn is Bad At Communicating, Loneliness, Mild Smut, Mutual Pining, Rebelcaptain - Freeform, This takes place after their first encounter, brief descriptions of Cassian's rear end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-08 09:04:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11643321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mollykaths/pseuds/mollykaths
Summary: He’s prettier than most men she’s crossed paths with but if she’s learned anything, men like Cassian tend to treat their looks like  another tool; an asset to stow away until it becomes valuable for something. [Inspired by a line from Rebel Rising.]





	between two lungs

**Author's Note:**

> “There was something about him that reminded her of…she couldn’t quite place it. But he had a familiar sort of face, one she immediately wanted to trust.”
> 
> So I'm kind of obsessed with this passage from the Rebel Rising novel. Later, it says "Jyn couldn't take her eyes off him." I'm still not over Rogue One and I strongly believe that this scene tells us that Jyn secretly wants to open herself up to the world. And Cassian. Both literally and figuratively.
> 
> I make lots of star wars + rebelcaptain fanart! check it out at satmolly on tumblr

The moment Jyn Erso laid eyes on Cassian Andor, she knew that he was trouble. She had known men like him before; men who like stories, sharing them, selling them with the right timbre, the right expressions, and usually with the right audience. All interrogators are the same to her, decorating her life with these assumptions that more often than not, turn out to be true and that’s probably what irks her most. Captain Andor was able to look her up and down-- scuffed boots, messy, tangled hair, specks of dirt on her worn layers-- and come to his conclusion. Reckless, disloyal, dishonest.

 

It’s not that she cares what he or any of the rebels holding her as bargaining chip think about her, its that for once, she would like their stories to work in her favor. No one has ever stuck around long enough to know her.

 

“There's no more rooms available. We’ve got an entire fleet of rebels housed here so you’ll have to stay with me tonight,” Is the explanation that Cassian offers during an otherwise silent trek. His tone is so casual and not at all the candor she expects from someone mentioning two strangers sharing a bed. What other news does Cassian deliver with a straight face? Briefly, Jyn recalls Cassian muttering something else under his breath but she’s too distracted by the curve of his ass (Jyn makes sure she always stays one pace behind to ensure she gets the best view.)

 

The barest minimum of decency isn’t enough to awe her and those suspicions about Captain Andor haven’t suddenly waned as he guides her through the halls, past many identical sliding doors within the barracks of the base. Upon seeing each other again, Cassian had nodded at her, placing a hand on her shoulder, not squeezing, just a terse acknowledgement, saying "Come with me."

 

It didn't mean anything, she was so certain of that but Jyn still feels the burn of his hand where he touched her. Their eye contact lasted long enough for Jyn to wonder if the intelligence officer had anything else to add to his statement. 

 

“Your Chief threatened to put me back in prison if I didn’t comply but you’re willing to spend the night with me,” Jyn scoffs, incredulous. She shakes her head while Cassian pauses to tap a passcode into a panel of an adjacent door.

 

Cassian replies, “I’ll be sleeping on the floor.”

 

Utter lack of acknowledgement isn’t new to Jyn but it doesn’t stop her from sharpening her posture in disbelief.

 

“Really? I'm not the one on the floor?”

 

“Call me old fashioned.”

 

When Cassian opens the door, he shoots her a vacant look and motions for her to go first.

 

Vigilantly, Jyn peeks into the darkened room and takes in the surroundings. It’s sparse: a bunk, a pair of boots neatly tucked under the bedding, a nightstand, and a trunk for storing clothes. She pictures a version of Cassian Andor pacing aimlessly across this room, after many sleepless nights, trousers riding low, strong and calloused hands tugging at the pleasant scruff on his face. Everyone has their own safe house, a quiet and nurturing home they go back to when they need it most. Perhaps this is Cassian's. It's not much but maybe it could be enough.

 

“The fresher is to your left. We have hot water but be mindful about it.”

 

Stationing himself in a utilitarian fashion outside the threshold, Cassian watches Jyn enter. Purposefully, she brushes against his shoulder as she pivots, listening to the sharp intake of breath that Cassian makes through his nose. Tension hangs low in the air and a slight discomfort rings all too familiar to Jyn when she can't sense Cassian following her lead.

 

“It’s a step up from a jail cell, though that’s not saying much,” She muses.

 

Cassian turns to leave as soon as Jyn plops down on his mattress. It’s not that she’s offended by the abrupt maneuver-- she figures Cassian is the type of man always in a hurry to clean up anyone’s mess but his own— but Jyn has to know so she catches him just in time.

 

“It was your idea, right?” Jyn asks. “Letting me stay here.”

 

Knowing that she won’t be able to unpack all of him by searching his eyes, (she wishes she could) Jyn keeps her gaze neutral. There’s so much to explore about Cassian’s face and there’s all the time in the world to do so, or at least it seems like it because the man hasn’t spoken yet—fumbling awkwardly in place, thin lips narrowing with caution. It’s such a pretty face and Jyn likes it quite a bit. He’s prettier than most men she’s crossed paths with but if she’s learned anything, men like Cassian tend to treat their looks like another tool; an asset to stow away until it becomes valuable for something.

 

“Where you sleep tonight isn’t exactly a priority to the rebellion,” Cassian says, his tone low, bordering on indigence. “It was my idea to let you stay here instead of a cell so you’re more than welcome to call it favor, if you like.”

 

“Well, then,” Jyn lips, icily. “I’m forever in your debt.”

 

She lets the cold hit him on his way out, this time, unafraid to fixate on all of him, the same way he did to her.

 

Taking a deep breath before marching to the fresher for her shower, Jyn allows the feeling to wash over her, a brick weighing heavy in her gut. It isn’t fair that so many of Cassian’s items take her back into a quiet solemn. A memory of her mother ignites: she's emptying her trunk (about the same size as Cassian’s) and flinging the gowns she had brought with her from the Empire across the floor in a tear-streaked fury, declaring that she oughta burn them all. It's a thought that's carefully whisked away into the depths of Jyn’s mind: her own personal hatch, much like the one she had as a child.

 

Any remaining time is spent reclining on Cassian’s bunk, losing herself in retrospect. Having a room to herself, even for just one night, is a true luxury. None of this matters, however, because Cassian finds his way back later that evening. Maybe it was because Jyn had went so long without company but the way Cassian sighs as he shrugs off his jacket, the smell of sweat that she can nearly taste, clinging to the nape of his neck, are…private details, like she shouldn’t be seeing this side of him.

 

“You’re wearing my shirt,” Cassian remarks.

 

Jyn doesn’t miss the way he skims over her bare legs stretched across the sheets. His shirt is large enough on Jyn's smaller frame that it hits her upper thighs.

 

“I had my belongings confiscated. You didn’t leave me with much of a choice.”

 

Annoyed, Cassian's shoulders drop and he gestures for her to hand it back.

 

“I like that one, so if you don't mind.”

 

“Doesn’t look any different from the shirt you’re wearing now,” Jyn grumbles, unimpressed as she raises the hem of the shirt and undresses. She then flings the shirt across the room simply because Jyn likes to punctuate. If she’s being honest, Jyn is also curious to see what'll happen if she pushes Cassian's buttons.

 

A sensation akin to pride pools in Jyn’s belly when Cassian reels back in shock.

 

“I didn’t know you weren’t wearing anything underneath,” Cassian chokes, turning away, shielding his vision from Jyn’s naked shape. “You can keep it.”

 

Allowing herself to grin, Jyn bounces off the mattress to retrieve the discarded top. It's soft and warm against her skin but she doesn’t care anymore. Licking her lips, Jyn places the downy fabric in Cassian's grip, her fingertips slowly grazing his palm as she pulls away.  

 

“No," Jyn hums, thoughtfully.

 

“What?”

 

“I changed my mind.”

 

Cassian sighs impatiently, letting this supposedly "cherished" shirt fall from his grasp.

 

“Erso, what are you doing?”

 

As Jyn steps closer, she lets her walls come down a bit, hoping Cassian can feel her face soften with her approach.

 

“That should be obvious, Captain,” Jyn baits. "I thought you were good at reading people."

 

“Jyn..” Cassian begins, risking a glance below her collar bones. Pain and hunger, that’s the story his eyes share with her, a reflection of her own. Suddenly, something within him shifts and Cassian tries for anger.

 

“You don’t get to come into my room—“

 

“— _You invited me_.”

 

“—Wear _my_ clothes, take up _my_ space and pretend you know me. You know nothing.”

 

Nostrils flaring, Cassian has resigned to his former self, the shell of him mean to protect the Cassian that paces around his room, threading his fingers through his hair, wanting, needing, questioning, forgetting everything.

 

If Cassian is attempting to intimidate her, its not working. His cheeks are still red, blushing simultaneously from resentment and the inability to comprehend the sight of a naked woman before him. Not to mention, he's very hard at the sight of her. Jyn takes his hand, tenderly, and guides it to her waist and that’s when Cassian gives himself permission to observe her fully: her round breasts, her dampened hair, the softness of her navel.

 

“You don’t know anything about me, either,” Jyn points out.

 

Cassian’s breath hitches in his throat when she guides his hand up her torso, skirting along her ribcage to rest at her breast. He still looks like he could snap at any moment, tension coiled tight in the creases and lines of his face but he lets her decide for him. Shaking, she takes his other hand and now he’s cupping her lightly, swallowing hard as he explores the peaks of her breasts, rolling them between his fingers. Jyn melts into the embrace. She catches a glimpse of Cassian's body as well and it just now hits her, how eager she is to see him naked, too. An impressive bulge sits between his legs. Jyn thinks about teasing it with her mouth, rendering him desperate. Cassian’s touch may be soft but his kisses aren't; he bites her lip and gulps down her moan. Accepting the challenge, Jyn kisses back just as hard, coaxing him into a rhythm that isn’t so uncharacteristically kind for either of them. 

 

“This is ridiculous,” Cassian laughs at himself, breaking away to collect air. “This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”

 

He pushes her onto the bed and it quickly becomes a trial to see who can radiate the most heat between them. Fingers claw at the meat of Cassian's ass, drawing out a beautiful and helpless whine that she wants to hear him make again.

 

 “Shut up,” Jyn says, flipping them over and dragging her body over his own, savoring the pleasure of his erection pressing into her center. At last, she begins to strip him bare.

 

Twenty years, that was her prison sentence. Cassian Andor is _here_ and he's burning into her core, so _gorgeous_ , molten, slick and firm _._  Jyn could have gone two decades without the warm and heavy weight of a man on top of her and inside her so maybe this  _was_ stupid but squandering her desire for this kind of union was even stupider.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I don't write fanfiction often, I'll be honest. When I do it tends to be another way to express myself. So if this, like, not great LMK. It's ok. I also worked in a lot of my own feelings about clinical depression into this so yeah lmao. Also its unbeta'd so pls tell me if I made typos. I'm hardcore about editing but I'm also tired a majority of the time so.


End file.
